Streams of sunrays gleamed past the veil of dense clouds, shrouding the sun in a shy red hue that spread across the vast expanse of sky.
Today, the wind was particularly harsh. Max felt the strong gale brushing past him, tousling his hair in a way that felt oddly pleasing.
His car roared through the sector, the engine responding each time he pressed the gas, speeding relentlessly yet somehow still keeping within the limits as it carved a way toward his destination.
In what felt like no time, he found himself slipping into the familiar street where Aunt Grey's café rested like a quiet relic of warmth.
He slowed down the mechanical beast, making a deep curve at the parking lot, steadily positioning himself into the narrow vacancy with practiced ease.
Stepping down from the car, he strutted toward the café, his head still leaning toward the information Anna had shared with him.
Even if he managed to sneak away the android from Google, a billion-dollar corporation like that wouldn't stumble or stop their ambitions, not for an obstacle like him.
They might just kickstart the development of another open platform through their sheer strength of connections and unshakable financial might.
To compete and more importantly, to stay ahead, he'd need to use hints from every major Android update in future.
If only he could limit the time and struggle involved in creating a platform, he might just be able to claim a stake in the mobile market.
Lost in thought, he reached the café before he even realized it.
Ding!
The bell chimed, just like always, as he stepped into the café.
His gaze wandered around, not looking for any one person in particular or maybe he was. It had become an involuntary action after so many daily visits.
He spotted Aunt Grey, the elderly lady behind the reception counter.
Their eyes met, and she gave him a polite smile. Max responded with a nod of his own, a small and familiar smile curving his lips.
He marched to his usual spot, a seat beside the tall glass windows with a clear view of the street outside.
As he sat down, his gaze instinctively turned toward the kitchen. Though the closed doors made it hard to see anything inside, his eyes remained fixed there, almost habitually.
Today, he was somewhat later than usual. The tables and furniture were already in place.
Normally, by the time he arrived, Aunt Grey and Jessica would still be busy with cleaning and other opening routines.
Judging by how everything looked ready and settled, he assumed Jessica must be in the kitchen, prepping and setting things up for the day.
Suddenly, a lithe woman donning an apron over a dark tank top and denim jeans emerged from the kitchen. The clothes clung softly to her frame, accentuating her features subtly yet unmistakably.
She sauntered out, and when her eyes met Max's, she responded with a fleeting look, welcoming or professional, he couldn't tell.
Jessica remained a mystery to him, always hard to read.
Although she wasn't exactly like the version he'd seen in the series, the sharp sarcasm she used in her words preserved an essence of her original personality.
It made her feelings hard to decipher.
She brushed past reception and approached with a notepad and pen in hand.
"The usual?" Her voice was even-toned, slightly heavy, maybe a bit questioning.
It felt like there was something more beneath the words. Or was that just his imagination?
He looked up, raising his neck, peering into her gaze, trying to decide whether it was just him or if his intuition was catching onto something deeper.
His gaze sank into her deep blue pupils, tentative and searching like he was peering into the ocean's depths.
Finding no clear answer, he hesitated for a moment before letting the thought go.
Jessica, however, didn't back down. She added, "I thought you finally decided to stop showing up. Figured our coffee wasn't cutting it for you anymore."
Max's lips curved upward. "Why? Were you disappointed I was late?"
A snort escaped through her nose as she crossed her arms, letting them rest just beneath her not-so-huge but still beautifully shaped bosom.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she retorted, glancing away. "Unlike some people with money to burn, I actually have work to do."
Max chuckled at the sharp glint in her eyes. He understood her perfectly, she didn't mean anything serious.
Her personality just happened to come laced with sharp retorts.
"I had to be somewhere else this morning," he said lightly. "That's why I was late. Bring me the usual—unless, of course, you've come up with something new to impress me."
"Hmph."
She turned on her heels and drifted away to place his order. His gaze lingered on her back until she disappeared from view.
He then turned toward the window, watching the street beyond the glass. Passersby strutted across the pavement, vehicles zoomed past, every movement woven into a tranquil urban rhythm.
"Here. Your order."
Startled, he noticed Jessica had already returned, faster than he expected.
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you were prepared beforehand... just for me?"
His last words hung between them, their breaths steady, mirroring a rhythm they seemed unaware of sharing.
"Don't be a narcissist," Jessica replied, pulling the chair across from him and sitting without hesitation.
She placed two cups on the small table between them and continued, "These were a few leftover materials we were handling. Even if you hadn't shown up, Aunt and I would've just finished them off or handed them out."
"Why? If there's a problem, financial or something else—I'm all ears. Just tell me." Max frowned, leaning forward, his fingers curling around his cup.
Jessica sighed, her eyes drifting sideways to glance at Aunt Grey. "She's getting older. Her son wants her to move in with him, out of state. They're planning to sell the place. She can't run the café alone anymore anyway."
Jessica's voice was quiet, almost disappointed. She breathed gently over the cup she held. Max noticed but kept silent.
Taking a long breath, Max sipped his order, exhaling slightly to cool the hot beverage.
"So what happens now?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Jessica, reading the subtle changes in her expression.
"Nothing much. Back to job-hunting, I guess," Jessica replied with a rueful shrug, a wry smile on her lips.
They sat in silence for a while. The only sounds were the occasional sips, the faint hum of the café, and the soft thud of cups placed gently on wood.
Warm breath mingled with the café's morning air, soft and lingering.
The atmosphere might have stayed like that, muted and calm if Max hadn't said something unexpectedly bold.
"Ever thought about becoming a bodyguard?"
Jessica lifted her head, stunned. Her eyes locked onto Max's face, the smirk playing on his lips clearly getting under her skin.
….
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